


I've been hangin' on the line

by seventyfivesheep



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Illustrations, Phone Sex, Post-Canon, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 06:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13405284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventyfivesheep/pseuds/seventyfivesheep
Summary: A long night of studying and a girlfriend hours away culminates in risqué texts and something Makoto has only ever daydreamed about.





	I've been hangin' on the line

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a collab with radio-starkiller on tumblr (radiostarkiller on twitter), who has provided some very lovely illustrations you'll see in this fic. 
> 
> Follow Them:  
> https://radio-starkiller.tumblr.com/  
> https://twitter.com/radiostarkiller

In hindsight, Makoto should have known better.

  
Given how their conversation up until this point had gone, this result was only logical, but Makoto had been up late studying so often in the past few weeks that her eyes were blurring words together, each page a splatter of ink and legal jargon, and she couldn’t process most complete sentences, let alone context clues over text. Still, this outcome was blatantly foreshadowed, considering several very obvious come-ons from Ann’s end in their exchange. But foreshadowing only works if the receiving party isn’t completely oblivious. Which, of course, Makoto was.  

When her phone buzzed and she opened the text, her first reaction was to throw it across the room, only her muscle memory and the idea of paying for a replacement keeping her from doing so.

Her second was to lock it, and act like she hadn’t seen anything, which she did. It certainly did nothing to pull the image from her mind, though.

Which led to her to her current predicament. She tapped the end of her pen against her textbook, the page already marked with notes. The phone sat face down, off to the side but within arms reach.

Seconds ticked by, punctuated by the beat of the pen. One, two, three. It had been a minute at least, and now it buzzed again and Makoto jumped enough that her pen was flung from her grip, clattering onto the floor.

She took a deep breath. _Relax_ , she repeated like a mantra. It was just Ann. They had already been dating for over a year, and she could handle this. It was just her girlfriend.  

Makoto turned the phone over slowly in her palm, and sighed in relief when she saw that the notifications didn’t contain the words ‘image’ or ‘attachment’.  

She opened the app, and blushed at the hint of skin above before she focused on the new messages.

**11:34 PM**

**From: Ann:** Mako-chan~

**From: Ann:** Are you doing ok over there?

**11:41 PM**

**From: Ann** : I’m guessing the answer is no.  

Oh God, had she really not responded in that long? Makoto huffed, forced her fingers to type.

**11:43 PM**

**To: Ann:** I’m fine. I was just surprised is all.

Makoto took another breath, kept her thumb still where it was, and she could practically feel the screen indenting under it.

**11:44 PM**

**From: Ann:** Is that all? ;)

Her phone rattled as it hit the desk. Oh God, this was happening.

It wasn’t like she had never thought about… _this_ , before, but she had never formed an accurate mental picture of exactly how this would happen, the technical in’s and out’s eluded her. But that didn’t seem to stop the scenario from popping into her head at the end of long nights where she missed the feel of Ann’s body against hers more than the dreams she was skipping.

The desk lamp shone bright, highlighting her still-open textbook and the phone sitting on top of it, and Makoto tried to regain focus.

  
“Relax _,_ ” she said quietly to herself, “there’s no one else here _._ ”

Which was true enough- Sae had insisted on her taking a single room, and Makoto had genuinely agreed it was for the best. Not only would it make it easier to focus on studying, it also made it better to invite company over, though it wasn’t like Makoto frequently had visitors. The majority of the dorms on campus were singles, anyway, and it didn’t make sense to go out of her way to room with someone else.

So if she was a flustered mess at the moment, there was no one here to judge that. And if she picked the phone back up and checked their chat history, there was no one here to see it.

And if she scrolled up and stared at the last picture Ann had sent her, there was no one here to call her on it.

It wasn’t the most subtle picture, but there was something intoxicating about the smooth stretches of skin, the way the fabric rolled up to reveal Ann’s bared breasts, the sliver of Ann’s face that was captured, just enough to tease Makoto with a catlike smirk.

She squeezed the phone a bit harder, the give of plastic no where close to that of skin. It had been months, and that realization rang out with an ache in her hands, her chest, everywhere.

It wasn’t until she heard a familiar _ding_ that Makoto realized she had lost track of time. Again.

**11:57 PM**

**From: Ann:** ?

Reading the new text forced her to scroll away from the picture, but it was still there, every detail, every angle sculpted into Makoto’s short-term memory.

**11:58 PM**

**To: Ann:** No.

**11:58 PM**

**From: Ann:**???

**12:00 AM**

**To: Ann:** That’s not all.

**12:01 AM**

**From: Ann:** Oh?

**From: Ann:** So what else do you feel? Tell me. ;)

There were a few words and phrases that immediately came to mind, but none of them were tactful. Still, it wasn’t like Makoto was a master of words. Or of flirting, and, on instinct, she typed out her next thought without any careful vocab selection or analysis.

**12:04 AM**

**To: Ann:** It’s hard to say

**To: Ann:** if you sent more, it might clear things up for me

_Oh my god,_ she slammed her forehead against the desk. Of all the things to say. It might have come off as borderline flirty in person, but over text, it just made her sound like she was _actually_ confused and not just horny. Why hadn’t she just admitted that? She was sure Ann knew. Ann always knew, and even if she was away from Tokyo, Makoto could practically feel Ann reading her as she thought-

The phone pinged. _1 image attached_ , the notification read.

Makoto’s thumb hovered over the pop-up. She knew swiping it would mean that this was real, that this would happen, and that she would be committing, in some way, to participate. It wouldn’t just be ogling or fantasizing alone. The summer heat that crept in from the cracks around her window did nothing to stop the shiver that thought sent through her.

 

She opened the message.

This picture was similar to the last, but at a different angle, capturing less of Ann herself. Instead, her body took up only half the frame, only showing part of what Makoto already knew was exposed. A breast, the curves of her side, trailing down to her hips. It was, at first, confusing- if anything, this was less intentionally sexual, with her body laid diagonally as though she were on her side, in bed.

That was, until Makoto noticed it.

  
The thin strip of the fabric of her panties that had hugged her hips in the last picture was gone, showing Ann’s skin instead. The angle cut the image off right after the dip of her hips, teasing at what was missed, stopping just short, and Makoto’s breath caught.

Another ping, and a picture uploaded in the thread.

Similar to the last, limiting what was seen, but this time from the front, the picture squared off and composed entirely of Ann.  All Makoto could see was Ann’s stomach, the underside of Ann’s breasts, and the hint of hair at the bottom of the frame.

And one hand, resting just above it.

When had it gotten this humid in her room? The fan was on, but she needed air, and Makoto stood up from her desk, phone in hand as she walked to the window immediately beside her bed, cracking it open before letting herself fall back.

The next ping rang out in time with the shifting of her sheets as she swiveled to sit on her bed proper.

**12:15 AM**

**From: Ann:** did that help clear some things up?

**From: Ann:** ;)

Her thumbs reacted the second she registered the sentence.

**12:15 AM**

**To: Ann:** I still have some questions.

**To: Ann:** Please, send more.

The response was quicker than Makoto had anticipated.

_Ding._ The picture loaded, and the frame trailed just a bit further down Ann’s body, her hand following suit.

_Ding._ The next, the frame itself didn’t change but the hand’s position did, half of it cut off at the bottom of the picture and Makoto shivered at the implication.

It was still far too hot in her room, but the window was already open and the only solution she could figure was to strip from the clothes she’d been studying in, down to only her undergarments, though it did little to dull the heat radiating from her own skin.

Maybe it should have felt weird, to be alone and half naked, but now all she felt was warm, and when the phone dinged a third time, it made everything even more intense.

This was an overhead shot, cut off right below Ann’s eyes, her biting her lip, breasts visible again and a hand dipped between her legs and Makoto started to mimic the path she imagined Ann’s hand took on her own body, fingers cupping into her bra to play at a breast, then sliding down and ghosting over the outline of her abs.

It was easy, really, to imagine it was Ann she was touching, or that her hand was Ann’s, touching her, whatever it was. Makoto scrolled through their chat history again, giving each picture equal airtime in her mind to help craft her fantasy.

Months. It had been months since she’d gotten to touch her girlfriend, and even when they had last been able to meet up in person, it had been Golden Week, spent with the rest of the thieves, too. Plans and meetings and hangouts that Makoto helped organize left little time for romance. They had gone on one date, spent a few harried hours together with too brief touches and rushed kisses. Makoto tried not to dwell, but she had left the break feeling disappointed-- with herself, mostly, for not optimizing her time and cherishing every second she got to spend with Ann, intimate or not.

None of that seemed to matter much right now, not when her hands travelled further and she scrolled down, slipping easily into her own daydreams. Ann had always, always been beautiful, and maybe Makoto should have felt more dirty about all of this. At least, she probably should have felt a little more guilty for just how wet the mental image of her girlfriend touching herself was making her. Wait- when had she-

Well, it didn’t matter, right? There still wasn’t anyone around. No roommates, no teammates, and no Ann. So no one could judge her for doing this- she sighed, running her hand over her panties, already soaked through.

Even the lightest touch was enough to send a jolt through her spine, and somehow everything was different when there were pictures to reference instead of the just the mental images Makoto had cataloged.  

Another ding, but no attachment. Makoto squinted to read it- away from her desk and the lamp, the contrast of the phone’s brightness against the darkness of the room made things more difficult. The fact that her hand had moved to tease right above the waistline of the thin fabric wasn’t helping things, either.

She gave up on reading it all together when her fingers slipped under said fabric, finally connecting with slick skin there, and Makoto let out a strangled moan. If Ann were here, she’d be touching her like this, but- probably not as directly. Ann liked to tease and draw things out, and, even though she groaned at the thought, Makoto pulled her fingers away, instead keeping her touches light and nowhere where she wanted them to be. Just like Ann would have.

Ann. She was so beautiful, all soft feminine curves and smooth skin. If she were here, she'd have Makoto wrapped up in her arms and wouldn’t let her go, she would tease her until Makoto would be begging, pleading for her to just touch her, touch her _please_ just like-

The moment Makoto finally gave in, the phone rang, vibrating against her pillow as she scrambled to answer, ignoring the wetness on her fingers as she hit the green button on the screen.

“H-hello?” Oh god, she was a complete mess and she didn't even look to see who was on the other line.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Makoto knew that voice immediately, “You weren’t responding, so I thought I lost you!”

“I'm sorry- I didn't fall asleep, I just.” A pause, “got distracted.”

“Hm.” Ann hummed. Makoto heard something shift on the other end. “Where are you right now?”

“I-in my apartment?”

“Where in your apartment?”

“Um,” Makoto looked back at her desk, the abandoned textbook and the lamp still alight, “I-I was studying at my desk.”

“You _were_.” Ann responded, voice laden with authority, “but where are you now?”

“Uh.” It didn’t make sense to lie-- she didn’t have to tell Ann what she was doing, anyway. “I’m in bed.”

“I see…” Ann answered, her tone a complete shift, the finality of the words now lined with an airy open endedness that made Makoto feel just a bit dizzy, “So you’re in bed, but you weren’t sleeping, huh?”

Makoto gulped. “Um. Y-yes.”

“Now that’s interesting.” Ann hummed, and Makoto panicked.

“Well, where are you? It’s not fair that you’re the one asking all the questions here!” She sputtered out.

“I’m not the one who stopped responding, though.” Ann’s smugness carried through the line, and Makoto buried herself in her pillow, as though her composure had somehow burrowed in there after it had left her.

The pause that followed was more heavy than it had any right to be, until Ann asked, “If you weren’t sleeping or replying to me, what were you up to?”

Fire, Makoto’s face was on fire and she flipped the pillow, but it didn’t make it any cooler. “I…”

“You?”

“I-I…”

“You, you?”

Makoto groaned, “Stop making fun of me.”

Ann giggled on the other end of the line. “Sorry, sorry- you’re just an easy target, Mako-chan.”

Makoto huffed before she said, barely a whisper, “I think you know what I was going to say, anyway…”

“Probably,” Ann said, her confidence unwavered, “But I want to hear you say it.”

A strangled noise left Makoto’s throat as she realized just what she had to admit to. “I- I can’t.”

“Do you need a- ha---a helping hand?” Ann could barely finish the sentence without cracking up.

‘Ugh.” Makoto rolled her eyes, though she knew Ann couldn’t see her, “That wasn’t even funny.”

“I know, but I had to.” Ann chuckled, and the pressure that Makoto had felt before Ann’s unfunny joke seemed to lift, at least a little. It was an unspoken agreement, one that declared that neither of them were taking this too seriously and that little bit of mental administrative work made Makoto realize that it was okay to embrace this. That there was no requirement to perform a certain way or say certain things, because Ann was going to enjoy this, regardless of what happened next.

It was the mental permission Makoto needed.

“You were right though.”

“Hm?” Ann hummed, and even though she was just laughing, her voice still had an air of anticipation. “About?”

“I,” Makoto started, stopped, and forced herself to say it through every filter her brain threw at her, “I was touching myself.”

It was a weak admission, one she wasn’t sure Ann even heard until there was a shifting on the other end of the line. “You were, huh? To the pictures I sent?”

“Yes.” Makoto answered, and her face burned, though it was hard to tell if it was from the embarrassment of the confession or the memory of the pictures themselves.

“Are you still touching yourself?” Ann asked, voice laced with the smallest amount of uncertainty.

“N-No, I stopped when you called.”

“Hm,” Makoto could practically visualize Ann’s face, calculating and considering. It would probably be the same expression she had when they had gotten together to study during her last year at Shujin. It was one of Makoto’s favorite parts of their time together- Ann had always been beautiful, but determination added another irresistible element to that beauty. “That’s good, then.”

“How so?”

“Because I want to talk you into starting again.”  The uncertainty was gone, replaced with confidence that shot a chill up Makoto’s spine.

She couldn’t stop the whimper that snuck past her lips, “Please do.”

“I don’t think it’ll take much.” Ann responded, “I’m guessing you’re pretty wet already.”

Once again, Makoto snuggled into her pillow. “I- oh God, we’re actually going to do this?”

She heard Ann sigh on the other line, “Yeah, I mean, you want to, right? I do.”

“Y-yes, it’s just...a little embarrassing is all.”

“Hm…Well, there’s no one there, right?”

Makoto shook her head. It took her about five seconds to realize that Ann couldn’t actually see her before she answered, “No.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Ann said, letting her tone drop a little as though someone might hear her, “I’m going to be doing it too. So you won’t be alone.”

Theoretically that should have been relaxing to know, but that was only in theory. If anything, it made the knot in Makoto’s lower stomach grow a little at the mental image of Ann touching herself, like Makoto had just done. “A- Alright.”

“Good! Then, let’s do it. Don’t worry, okay?” Ann’s voice had shifted to one of comforting, one Makoto was very familiar with, “I’ll be here the whole time. And we can stop if you’re uncomfortable.”

Makoto nodded with an affirmative hum.

“Well then,” Ann began, “Are you lying on your back right now, or...?”

She shifted, tried to resist the urge to turn and bury herself in blankets and pillows again, “I am now.”

“Great- also, what are you wearing? That seems like an important detail.”

“Um,” And Makoto looked down, mortified when all she saw was the fabric of her panties. “Um.”

“Oh,” Ann sighed, “You’re not wearing anything, are you? I suppose not, since you were touching yourself already.”

Makoto strangled the noise that came out of her throat at that, “Can you stop bringing that up? It’s so embarrassing…”

“That’s kinda the point of this whole thing, babe.”

“Oh, right.” Though that fact didn’t make Makoto feel any less warm. “I am wearing underwear, I’ll have you know.”

“That’s no good,” Ann replied, “Those will have to go- eventually.”

Makoto’s breath was shaky when she answered “Okay.”

“Where are your hands right now?”

Makoto had to actually look- she hadn’t thought about it since the call started and was surprised when she realized one had drifted. “I’m holding the phone with one, and the other’s...on my thigh.”

“Is it, though?”

“N-no.” At one point or another, it had come to rest over her panties, and even though there was little pressure, it’s presence was enough for Makoto to feel the heat underneath.

“I want you to move it. Bring your hand back up to your chest, okay? Since I can’t be there to do it for you.”

Makoto hummed, and dragged the hand up from her panties with a whimper, trailing the outline of muscles before she reached her chest. She hadn’t expected much, but she should have known better- while it never caused much of a reaction when she did this to herself, having Ann lead her in her own voice changed everything. “What now?”

“I shouldn’t need to tell you, right? Do what I would do, if that was my hand. Imagine it’s mine. I’ll tell you when to move on.”

The dominance in Ann’s voice was clear and sent a shiver down Makoto’s spine as she moved her hand, using it to palm at one of her breasts.

What would Ann do? Makoto wasn’t really sure; she’d never really focused too hard on it, when they were together, instead letting the feelings of the moment take over. So instead of emulating exactly, Makoto freestyled with different things- squeezing and pressing against a breast, but nothing seemed to be working.

Ann noticed. “What’s the matter? Are you not doing it?”

“I-I am! It’s just… it doesn’t feel the same as when you do it.”

“Well, obviously,” Ann answered, and once again Makoto heard the shift of a blanket followed by a light thud, “I don’t really- I’m not sure how to describe it. Let me try it on myself. Then I can probably describe it better, yeah?”

“Y-Yes.” Makoto couldn’t stop herself from sputtering out when Ann suggested it, and waited eagerly for her to begin.

It didn’t take long; Ann probably hadn’t put on any clothes since she took those pictures, and if this conversation was having half the effect on her that it was on Makoto, she needed to be touched, too.

The next sound over the line confirmed that theory.

It was quiet, but not quiet enough to be missed, a moan whispered like a secret that rang out in Makoto’s brain, causing everything to start and stop all at once.

It wasn’t the only noise Ann made, but Makoto couldn’t stop thinking about it, and she barely heard Ann when she muttered “Well, it’s working for me.”

“Is it?” Makoto whispered, too distracted to think of anything else to ask.

“Yes,” Ann said, “Now it’s your turn. Try to focus on me, okay? I’ll do it with you.”

Makoto nodded, and set her hand back in motion, but it was almost an afterthought. Breaths carried over the receiver, light and airy and interlaced with the occasional noise that set a trip in Makoto’s skull, and suddenly the hand on her breast was the most important thing to her.

Ann’s hands had always been soft, when they’d been together, when they were still in close enough proximity to fumble through undressing each other, touching each other like this, and Makoto whimpered as her fingers toyed with a nipple.

Almost immediately after, she heard Ann’s voice on the other end, “That’s it. I think we might actually get somewhere. Keep going, okay, babe?”

As instructed, Makoto kept touching her chest, moving in different patterns and with different pressures, trying to chase anything that felt good, anything that felt like Ann’s hand instead of her own, and after another uncontrolled noise slipped from her, Ann hummed.

“You’re doing so well, Makoto. Keep this up, and next time I might have to send a video instead of just pictures.”

It was like time had stopped, and every mental barricade came crashing down on her at once. Makoto’s hand froze, and the images of touching Ann and having Ann loom over her were replaced by the disappointed look on Sae’s face when she somehow saw the transcript of this conversation on her phone bill, the stern faces of government officials as they declined her application to join the police force, the shocked expressions of the other phantom thieves at how far Makoto had fallen from the responsible, composed advisor they once knew.

She could hardly breathe, much less hear any chatter from the other side of the conversation, and in her panic, she did the only thing she could think to.

She hung up.

For a second, there was silence. Nothing but the distant rumble of cars filtering in through her open window. Makoto took a deep breath, and then another.

And then the phone rang again.

“Makoto! What- why-?”

“I, uh,” With her head a bit clearer, it hit Makoto what she had actually just done, and she burned with embarrassment. “Um, my phone died, actually.”

“You're a terrible liar, you know.” Ann grumbled, and Makoto couldn't help the feeling of disappointment that passed through her. Ann had gone out of her way to...seduce her, and Makoto had messed it all up.

She opened her mouth to apologize when Ann spoke again, gentle and sincere, “It’s okay if you don't want to do this, you know. I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

That caused Makoto to fumble with the phone again, though not out of nervousness this time, “No! No, I want to do this!”

Ann giggled, “Okay, okay, jeez, calm down.”

“I do, I just-” Makoto groaned at her own inability to phrase things, “-I keep overthinking it. When we’re actually together, it’s like I don't...there's so much else to focus on. But now there's just me and your voice.”

Ann hummed, “I get it. It's easy to get like that when you're all alone. Well- try to picture me there with you, okay? I know it's not the same, but it'll have to do until I can actually be there. If you need help, I could always send more pictures.”

“I- that's,” Oh god, the pictures. Makoto had nearly forgotten the reason she had hung up in the first place, “M-maybe some other time. Right now I just want to talk to you”

“Is that so?” Ann’s voice changed once again, seemed to drop a little, a cue and one that Makoto wasn't going to miss, “So you're not saying you _don’t_ want me to send you more? Maybe even a video or two?”

“I'm not--” Just the thought of seeing Ann shifting into the poses she'd taken pictures of was enough to get Makoto fired up, let alone anything else she might take a video of. “just not tonight, please.”

“Noted. So tell me Mako-chan- what _should_ we do tonight?”

“Um,” Makoto started. If they were going to get anywhere, it would depend on her-- it wasn’t like Ann had been the one to hang up, after all. As anxious as the thought of embarrassing herself made her, the thought of going to bed after ending the call here sounded even worse. “I think you should let me touch myself again.”

Ann practically purred, “That I can do. But first, Makoto?”

“Yes?”

“Trust me, okay?”

There was no need to ask, “I wouldn’t have answered the call if I didn’t.”

It turned out to be remarkably easy to pick-up where they left off.

All it took was a word from Ann and Makoto’s hand was back at her chest, recreating a mix of what she figured Ann would be doing if she were here and what Ann actually _was_ doing as they spoke. It was impossible to tell, obviously, but if it was provoking those sorts of noises, Makoto could guess…

A broken whimper snuck past her lips as she squeezed a breast a little too roughly.

A breathy chuckle served as Ann’s proof of notice, “There you go. It’s not so hard, is it, Mako-chan?”

“It’s- it’s not that, I-” and she was cut off by the sound of a moan on the other end of the line, and the rest of the sentence was lost in the scramble of thoughts the noise set off in Makoto’s brain.

“I think you’re ready to move on- can you move your hand down and touch your abs for me, babe? I miss them.”

Makoto felt her face light up and for once, it wasn’t because she was just uncomfortably turned on, “That’s such an embarrassing thing to say.”

“What? It’s true! You live with them everyday, so you don’t properly appreciate how nice they are to touch. And look at. And kiss. And how they twitch when you cu-”

Makoto coughed, something suddenly caught in her throat, “A-Ann, please.”

“You don’t need to say that yet. But you will.”

The sound caught in Makoto’s throat was some sort of high-pitched, internalized scream, but she didn’t get to vocalize it before Ann spoke again.

“As nice as those are to touch, though, there’s somewhere else I want you to be touching…”

That got Makoto’s attention right back to her hand, hot and heavy against her stomach. It was nothing like when she touched herself, where she didn’t particularly pay attention to these parts of her, more focused on just...taking care of herself quickly so the distraction would be gone and she could get back to doing other things.

The thought of Ann doing this was enough to make every light brush of her fingers feel like pins pricking her, not hard enough to puncture, but solid enough to center the tension of every touch underneath them as they traced the outline of muscle, challenging her not to move her hand lower.

“Where?” Makoto asked, feeling herself tense with the question itself.

“Your thigh. The top, too- and no further.”

She groaned, but obeyed, moving her hand to the top of one thigh, “Now what?”

“Feel it- how solid and strong it is. Admire your own body- you’ve worked so hard on it, after all.”

Makoto hummed, and her leg flexed subconsciously as she touched it, “I guess, though I don’t really think there’s anything special about it.”

“You don’t. But I do. Do you remember the night before you left?”

Makoto closed her eyes, though it wasn’t really necessary- the memories of her and Ann together had been vivid enough to stick with her, even when she was concentrating during class or working out. “I do.”

“Do you remember how I touched you? How my nails felt and the marks they left trying to keep you still?”

“Mmhm.” Makoto murmured. So it _had_ been on purpose, and she curled her fingers at the realization, dragging them up the length of her thigh, leaving raised and reddened skin in their wake.

“I love that part of you, Makoto. I love that I’m the only one who gets to touch you there. And I love the way you react when I do. You’re beautiful.”

The moan that followed was unintentional, but Ann still answered with “Yes, like that.”

Makoto had her hand resting on the inside of her thigh before she even recognized it, but once she did, something inside of her kicked it back to where it was, remembering Ann’s commandment. Instead, she asked, “Where next?”

She could practically hear the smile in Ann’s reply, “Getting a little impatient, huh, Mako-chan?”

Her hand had moved up, and tempted to follow the line of her hip bone down, down. “A little.”

“I'm glad but....” Ann’s voice was so smooth. It always had been, but it seemed to become even more so with age. “I still don't want you to touch yourself yet. You'll listen to me, right, Makoto?”

No denying that tone. Not like Makoto wanted to, anyway. “Right.”

“You're always so good to me, Makoto. I want your hand just below your belly button- if I were there, I'd touch your hips, too.”

Makoto obeyed. It didn't seem to do much other than keep her as she was, her desire to move that hand lower still thrumming with every pulse, but she did as told, following the movements she thought Ann would, fingers ghosting out patterns her girlfriend had traced months beforehand.

“Now, Makoto-” Ann began, and sighed, “I want to you to tell me a secret. And I’ll tell you one, too.”

“Um-” Makoto’s hand slowed, “That’s kind of- I mean, if you want to...What do you have in mind?”

“I want you to tell me what you think about when you touch yourself.”

Makoto’s breath caught, a cough shaking her chest, inadvertently moving her hand a little lower, “That’s- ah.”

_Be honest,_ Makoto mentally scolded herself, _She won’t judge._

“You.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”  

“Are you really surprised?”

“Not at all. I think about you, too, you know.”

“Really?” Makoto’s voice had pitched up a fraction too high, but she didn’t have time to be self conscious before Ann spoke again.

“Of course. All the time.” She said, and repeated, “All the time.”

“You should tell me what you fantasize about. It’s only fair.” Makoto wasn’t sure where she had gotten this bold streak from- or how she was able to keep her hand lingering above the line of her underwear, and not straying under.

“Mmm, well, that depends… if I miss you, I guess I’m mostly thinking about times we’ve already been together. How it feels to touch you, how you taste... But I don’t think that’s what you want to hear about.”  

Makoto whimpered, fingers moving along the seams of her panties. “N-no.”

“Good- because I like thinking more about the things I haven’t gotten to do with you yet, Makoto. There are so many things, babe.”

Her panties had been wet before, though they had become mostly an afterthought until Makoto ran the pads of her fingertips against them now. Even that light touch was almost too much, she realized with a soft gasp. She needed more, but she needed to hear more, too. “L-like what?”

Ann’s responding giggle was punctuated by a moan, “Well, for one, I think you’d look great on your knees, just for me.”

Makoto added a little more pressure- not enough to get anywhere, not enough to get rid of that pesky fabric. “And?”

“You’d look beautiful all tied up, too. Of course, you’d have to get a little creative without your hands… I mean, you wouldn’t want to get punished, after all.”

Makoto shivered, pressed at her clit through her panties, “Okay- what else would you do?”

“Well, first, I think you need to stop touching yourself.”

Makoto’s hand froze, and her breath hitched.

“What else would I do?” Ann repeated the question, “Well… I think I would toy with you a bit. Tease you, touch you everywhere until you can’t stand it. And just when you think I’m going to give in, to do what you want, I’ll just… Stop.”

_Beep._ The line went dead.

It took Makoto a second to recognize that the voice was no longer there, and it took less than that to pull the phone away from her ear and hit redial.

It was answered on the first ring.

“Ann!” Makoto said, frantic, “Please!”

Ann hummed, “Please what, hm?”

“Y-you know-” Makoto huffed, and her hand twitched. “Let me.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Ann said, her voice practically singing, “I won’t know unless you ask specifically.”

Makoto’s hand was so close, but there was no way she was going to risk Ann hanging up yet again, and she was far too wet to even conceive of ending the call herself. “Please let me touch myself.”

There was another, potent pause, though this time Makoto could hear breathing on the other end, and knowing Ann was still on the line was almost enough. Almost.

Makoto could hear the sounds of cars driving through the city stories below, oblivious to what was happening. They drove almost in sync with her pulse pounding in her ears, and the only indication time hadn’t stopped entirely.

“Take off your panties, first.” Makoto complied instantly, using her one free hand to pull them past her thighs, the breeze sending a chill up her spine when it connected with the wetness there. “And now...say please.”

“Please!”

“Go.”

No need to be told twice; Makoto’s fingers were between her thighs almost instantly, each touch gliding easily against slick skin and accompanied by a small whimper.

“That’s it.” Ann said, “Keep going- just like that.”

Makoto did-- taking a different angle with every pass of her hand, touching everything, everything that cried out for it, and her fingers dipped and curved, moving fast, as though if she didn’t get off now, she might never get the chance.

On the other end of the line, Makoto heard Ann’s breaths picking up, paired with the occasional moan that sped Makoto’s own movements up to match.

It was the result of that speed that caused her to brush her clit, and she practically yelped at the touch, hips lifting a little and she was too preoccupied to even realize she hadn’t tried to muffle herself, but none of that seemed to matter when Ann answered with a noise of her own.

It happened again after another stroke against her clit, but this time, Makoto couldn’t help but stutter out, “S- Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, babe,” Ann said, and sighed, “Let me hear you. I want to hear you.”

Makoto hummed in acknowledgment, though she hadn’t really listened and didn’t really feel bad about that, not when she felt as though her body was on fire, the wetness between her thighs it’s own gasoline, Ann’s voice the lit match and herself the sacrifice, burned alive.

“Ann.” Makoto’s fingers centered more on her clit, circled around it, not quite touching, not yet.

“I’m here. Don’t stop” And Makoto didn’t, each stroke getting closer until she finally, finally-

The second her fingers made contact, her nerves set alight, and she moaned loudly,  the sound  echoed in her ear.

“Baby,” Makoto was vaguely aware of the sounds of shifting on the other end of the line, “Keep going- I want you to come.”

Makoto nearly did from the sound of Ann’s voice alone- nearly, but didn’t, instead working her fingers faster and faster, circling her clit as she felt her muscles begin to move of their own volition, the shake of the phone in her hand.

The steady stream of noises coming over the line told her Ann was in a similar spot, too, and that combined with her fingers tracing back down the length of her and returning to her clit wet was enough to prompt another strangled recitation of Ann’s name from Makoto’s lips.

“Oh, Makoto,” Ann’s voice was so breathy it carried over the receiver. “You’re so good. You’re so good.”

Makoto gasped, strangled and stuttered and her leg jerked, and she- she was so close, so-

“God- I love you so much.”

And now she moaned, loudly, clearly, she could feel the twitch in her muscles, stemming from the twitching under her fingers and her grasp on the phone loosened with just how violent her movements became.

“Yes! Come for me, you’re such a good girl.”

Makoto was vaguely aware of a few things- her voice pitching up, breaking into fragments, Ann’s noises on the other end of the line, the way her hips rose and fell and the overall heat, heat, heat that she couldn’t begin to process.

The phone slipped from her hand as she shook, curled into herself, her fingers barely moving but doing just enough to coax her through her orgasm.

When she finally settled down-- or, at least, enough so that she could actually control her movements under her own power, she heard a distant voice. Flipping over, she fumbled to pick the phone up again just in time to hear Ann whine.

“Baby,” Her voice pitched so high that Makoto couldn’t help her blush, “You did so good.”

“Uh-huh.” Makoto answered, mostly because they were the only syllables that fell out of her mouth, and Ann sighed.

“But now you left me like this by myself,” The reprimand wasn’t at all serious, not when it was punctuated by a moan, “You’re such a tease.”

“I’m sorry,” Makoto said, actually genuine despite the circumstances “what do you want me to do?”

“Act like you’re touching me.”

“H-huh?” Makoto stuttered. Ann’s breaths carried over the receiver, served as a reminder as she scrambled to find her words, “I- I can try.”

She could hear Ann hum in approval, “Please.”

Makoto steeled herself, tried to call on the iron and fire of Johanna despite her own body still recovering, “I wish I was there with you now.”

“Mm, me too.” Ann’s voice was almost quiet compared to the other noises she was making, but without the heavy distraction of her own arousal, Makoto found the words came more naturally.

“I would-” She paused, not due to embarrassment or exhaustion but just the sheer overwhelming realization of the number of things she wanted to do with Ann. It would be too hard to voice those, at least right now, so she settled with “I want to taste you, to feel your legs wrapped around me, pulling me in.”

“Baby,” Ann whimpered weakly, but Makoto could still hear the sounds of friction against the sheets.

“I want to focus on you, just you, and nothing else. I want to be surrounded by your skin, I want to give you everything I can.”

“M-Makoto,” Breaths came harder now, but Makoto could recognize enough that Ann wasn’t there, not yet.

She didn’t even think before the next words slipped from her mouth, “Tell me what you want me to do to you- I want to do it. I want to be good for you. I’ll do anything.”

Ann’s next inhale was sharp, caught on something before she asked, “Anything?”

“Anything.” Makoto didn’t hesitate.

“Fuck,” She replied, “Makoto.”

“I’ll make you come, again and again,” The words sounded so foreign out of her own mouth, but the fact that Makoto’s hand continued to move against herself at them meant they weren’t off the mark, not in the least, “anytime you ask, I’ll obey.”

Ann’s voice pitched higher, each moan loud and each whimper equally desperate.

“I want to make you feel good, and I’ll do whatever I have to. Anything you ask- and you won’t even have to ask nicely.”

The moans began to intermingle with expletives, and the noises in the background were so vivid that Makoto could almost visualize the way Ann’s hips would stiffen when Makoto’s fingers hit their mark, the way Ann’s hands had to be digging into the bedding to keep a hold of anything, the same way they’d find themselves rooted in Makoto’s hair when she found just the right spot, moved her tongue in just the right way.

“I love you,” It was the only thing Makoto could think to add, “and I want you to let me make you come. Please.”

Ann came with a cry, and all Makoto could do was close her eyes and listen, enjoy the symphony and imagine the composer, naked and lying spent at the head of the bed, beautiful face framed perfectly as Makoto looked up between the borders of her thighs.

The moments after felt almost as though they were actually together- focused on Ann’s breaths, giving her time and space to recover, it was all so nearly real that Makoto almost forgot it wasn’t, until a chill crept over her at the absence of any clothing, and without another body of warmth next to her, holding her.

It was Ann who broke the silence. “God, Makoto.”

“Was that okay?” The sentence ended with a shake, nerves creeping into her voice as Makoto pulled back one of the covers, trying to snuggle into it. It wasn’t anything like warm arms, but it would do.

“More than okay babe. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like that before…”

“That’s-” As much as Makoto wanted to disprove her, there was no way, not when a quick scan of her memory left her empty-handed. “- I was just trying my best.”

“Mm, I know.” Ann hummed, “I hope I didn’t say anything that made you too flustered. Though clearly I did, considering you hung up on me!”

Makoto felt herself light up in embarrassment, “I’m sorry, I just... ”

Ann laughed, “It’s okay, Makoto. I know. But if you think I’m going to let you live that down…”

Makoto let herself wallow in her own shame for only a second before she realized, “Hey, wait a second- you hung up on me too!”

“That’s different!” Ann scoffed, “I was doing that for _dramatic_ effect. Gotta keep you hangin’, you know?”

Makoto rolled her eyes, “ _Dramatic_ effect, sure.”

“Hey, what was it you said- something along the lines of ‘I’ll do anything you ask, and you won’t have to ask nicely’- that ring a bell?”

“Ah- um.” Makoto clutched the phone a little tighter in her palm. “That’s- I-”

Ann’s laugh was softer this time, “I’m not judging. I mean, it worked, didn’t it? So clearly there’s something there that turned me on.”

“Huh.” The very weight of possibility was almost crushing, and while Makoto hadn’t been thinking when she said those things, there was no denying the ring of true desire behind each word.

“Well,” Ann interrupted her thoughts, “We can talk about that some other time. When it’s not super late.”

Makoto flipped over to her side, towards the desk with her lamp still shining, textbooks still open. The neon letters of her alarm clock, almost striking against the darkness, revealed it was after one AM. “Oh, right.”

“Though I could talk to you all night,” A yawn punctuated Ann’s sentence, bringing a smile to Makoto’s face.

“We can always talk in the morning.

“I guess… Though I wish that could be in person, instead of over the phone.”

Makoto rolled back, so she faced the window. The lights of this city weren’t harsh enough to outshine the stars. Not like Tokyo. Not even close. “Me too. But we’ll see each other again soon.”

“I know.” Ann responded, quiet, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Yeah,” Makoto echoed. “So am I.”

A pause, and the sounds of the city filtered in, through all Makoto heard was Ann’s soft breaths through the receiver, until the younger girl yawned and said, “Damn, I really am sleepy, huh?”

Makoto shifted onto her back before replying, “We should probably get to bed.”

Another yawn, “Sounds good. Talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Mmhm.” Images of a someday future flashed in front of Makoto’s eyes when she closed them, waking up beside Ann, her face framed by a sunrise shining through a crack in the curtains, the first moment in a new day and a future worth waiting for. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Good night.”

“Sweet dreams.”

The line went dead.

 

* * *

 


End file.
